


The Myth, The Legend, The Babyfaced Hero

by Starrik



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starrik/pseuds/Starrik
Summary: Han decides to have some fun in a bar with a clueless Rebel Pilot; well after the Battle of Endor.





	

“So. Your friend there, is he Luke Skywalker?”

Han looked at the burly pilot in disbelief. The man was wearing full rebel pilot gear, but something made Han doubt that he was the real deal. Part of that definitely was to do with the fact that the pilot was gesturing to Chewbacca.

“You think Luke Skywalker is a Wookiee?”

Chewbacca growled at the astonishment in Han’s voice, and there was inexplicably another pace between the pilot and the Wookiee.

The pilot shrugged. “Well, I heard he was seven feet tall and breathed fire, so I figured a Wookiee was halfway there. Besides, you’re _Han Solo_.”

“Swear not one day since I met that kid and his hobo mentor has been normal,” Han muttered to himself. “You recognise _me_ , but you don’t know what Luke Skywalker looks like?”

“Well, sure. You’re Han Solo, the most famous smuggler in the galaxy. Though if I think about it, that’s not a great feature in a smuggler.”

Han groaned, and mentally swore by every debt he owed. Smugglers prayed to things higher than gods. “Look, you want to gawk at someone, you can go gawk at the ‘great’ Luke Skywalker himself.” The sarcastic air quotes might have been a bit much, but he wasn’t a fan of hero worship. Especially not when he was well aware that he was the least heroic of his incredible friends. Not that Luke ‘moisture farmer’ Skywalker would ever hear about it.

“See the blond kid over there? The one they aren’t letting get a drink at the bar?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s Skywalker.”

“…

…

…bullshit.”

“It’s true. Ask him for yourself.”

* * *

 

Han positioned himself just nearby enough to be sure that he could hear the whole conversation go down, without having to actually get involved. “This outta be fun,” he said to Chewie. The Wookiee’s agreement could have doubled as a threat, or throat clearing. He was just glad most Wookiees understood Basic.

“Hey, so I know this sounds crazy,” the pilot asked, holding his helmet between his hands. There was clear nervousness on his face at the possibility that Han wasn’t lying through his teeth, and that the baby faced farm kid in front of him was the overnight legend Luke Skywalker. “…but, uh, that guy over there, Han Solo, he said you were Luke Skywalker? The Jedi?”

Luke looked over to where the pilot pointed, and gave Han a cheerful wave. Han made a vague motion with his hand that might have been a wave back.

“That’s me! What can I do for you?”

The bartender snorted, and went back to wiping the glasses with a blue-stained rag dirtier than the glasses themselves.

“You’re Luke Skywalker. Son and redeemer of Darth Vader. Hero of the Rebellion,” the pilot said flatly.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but basically.”

“But you look so… so…”

“There’s no chance you’re going to say ‘dignified’, are you?”

“Young!” The words seemed to just slip out, and the pilot went red.

“You were expecting a beard, weren’t you?”

“How could you have done all that stuff? Blown up the Death Star, trained with Master Yoda in hiding, outsmarted the Emperor, saved the galaxy? You’re younger than me!”

Luke went a little red, still not entirely comfortable with the list of deeds to his name. When crossed, you could see the lines of Vader in him, mixed with the unshakeable righteousness of his mother. When he was at a bar, he was just another guy.

“I mean, it really wasn’t all that much. I had a lot of help-”

“But it’s been a few years since the Battle of Yavin, you must have been just a kid!”

“Oh, that wasn’t hard. Like I said to Wedge-”

“You’re friends with _Wedge Antilles?_ ”

“-it was nothing compared to shooting womp rats back on Tatooine.”

The pilot’s face lost all of it’s colour, and he did his best to vanish into the crowd of the bar. Han sauntered over, clapping Luke on the back and convincing the awestruck bartender to get them both a drink. “Don’t worry about him kiddo. They’ll figure you out eventually.”

“Not if I have any say in it,” Luke said as an awkward smirk he had definitely stolen from Han melted into a confident grin that would have any bounty hunter quaking in their boots.

“You mangy little nerf herder,” Han laughed, “you even had me going.”

* * *

“Luke Skywalker’s from Tatooine?” the pilot muttered to himself, walking away as fast as he could. “Empire never stood a chance.”


End file.
